


Blood & Ink

by kurgaya



Series: chronic pain [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Ableist Language, Chronic Pain, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Ninken | Ninja Dogs, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Self-Hatred, Summons & Summoning Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: The dogs are good for Kakashi, in that way. As a child, Kakashi was so serious. Eight misfits who loved him unconditionally was exactly what he needed.Gai doesn’t think he needs a misfit. He’s not sure what he needs.[Post-Fourth Shinobi War. Gai signs the canine contract and getsthreatenedadvice from Hatsuhime.]
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai | Might Guy
Series: chronic pain [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743751
Comments: 15
Kudos: 141





	Blood & Ink

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** tagged **ableist language** because Gai's inner-narrative gets pretty negative.
> 
> This fic is loosely related to [lady luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22365280).

Gai will never admit it, but he mostly signs the canine contract to cease Kakashi’s fussing. It’s a summoning contract passed down through the Hatake family, and Gai has wanted to sign it for almost as long as he’s wanted Kakashi. He loves Kakashi’s pack and relishes the thought of his own. Truly, he is honoured to add his name to this remnant of a once-renowned clan. But he knows an ulterior motive when he sees one. In the year following the Fourth War, the world has changed. Admittedly, Gai comatosed his way through the first four months or so, his chakra trying to kill him from the inside out. He remembers the burn of the Eighth Gate in flashes – the _boil_ of it like fire in his blood. Most of his memories are a haze of red; a sun he knew was setting on his life. To think that he’s survived to recall such things! The med-nin still speak of it with awe. His physiotherapists could barely contain their excitement when he stood unaided again. Gai's students have finally stopped bursting into tears whenever they see him.

Yet, Gai can’t help but think of the things he _could_ do (walk, run, scale a mountain with a single hand!) and he’s sure Kakashi thinks of them too. He is glad to have Kakashi at his side every step of the way, but the _fretting_ is starting to fray at Gai’s nerves. He can accept it from his students. They are young and view him from a pedestal of their own making. They still look up to him, even now. But Kakashi is his rival, his equal. The widening gap between them is all the more obvious for it. Kakashi has risen to a rank that Gai can never achieve, and secured himself as a war-hero, a sensei, and a Kage. He has great things left to do and be. Gai’s life culminated in his assault against Madara. And now he’s to be left behind.

It’s no wonder Kakashi worries. Gai can’t keep up with him anymore.

“Found it. I knew I should’ve labelled everything when we moved,” Kakashi calls, appearing from the hall. He throws the summoning scroll into Gai’s lap and joins him on the couch. The Hokage’s Residence has yet to feel like home for either of them, even with the mismatch of their furniture. Kakashi only agreed to dwell here under the condition that the entire space was refurbished for Gai’s wheelchair – and in a few short months, it was. Gai had no choice but to move in too.

Everything but the round outer wall and the support beam running through the centre of the house was redesigned. Gai imagines it was meant to make him feel welcomed, but he can’t help but feel that he’s slowing Kakashi down. He knows recovery isn’t meant to be easy, and in the months since he awoke in the hospital, it’s been anything but. Yet there are days when he can hardly bring himself to roll out of bed. There are others where he can’t. Carrying his wheelchair while walking on his hands may get him from A to B, but it doesn’t help when he’s paralyzed in bed with pain.

He’s not sure a dog will help with that, either. It can’t be a coincidence that Kakashi has suggested now, of all times, for Gai to sign the contract. The idea that Kakashi _pities_ him makes Gai sick to his stomach.

“Second thoughts?” Kakashi asks, taking the scroll back and unrolling it. It spills out over their laps, the many names of Kakashi’s ancestors preserved in ink. _Ikarashi Mahiro_ , is scribbled at the end, and then just before that and barely legible is _Hatake Toshihito_. It's a child's handwriting. The ink has faded in death.

Gai wonders who they were. He takes a moment to scan the rest of the unfamiliar names for those he recognises: _Hatake Kakashi_ and _Hatake Sakumo_. He runs his thumb under the former, smiling at the chicken scratch handwriting. Even on his second turn, Kakashi couldn’t write his name neatly.

“I will sign it,” Gai says. Regardless of the timing, to be given the canine contract is an honour. He knows what it means to Kakashi; what it means to the Hatake family. They may not be married, but this feels just as important. Affection swells in Gai’s chest and it’s far, far more welcome than pain. “Blood and ink?”

Blood will suffice in awakening the seal, but chakra is necessary to activate it. Gai is under strict orders not to mould any chakra unless he’s willing to bet his life, but a reverse-summoning initiates from the summoning plane. The chakra-mother – or whoever chooses to respond to Gai’s signature – should have the power to pull him through. He doesn’t remember exerting chakra to reach Ningame’s plane, but then he was a child. Gai’s memory of his childhood is fuzzy at the best of times.

“You’ll probably meet the chakra-mother,” Kakashi warns, but he’s smiling. He’s happier with two eyes than he ever was with one. He passes over a brush and ink, gesticulating. “Big, covered in armour, might eat you.”

Gai nods. The chakra-mother is a being he’s only heard Kakashi mention once or twice. He tries to imagine Ningame but larger, and furry, with iron instead of a shell. He’s not sure it makes her any less threatening. “Remind me…?”

“Her name’s Hatsuhime. She scares the crap outta me.”

Gai doubts it’s her appearance that scares him.

“I will proceed with caution, then,” Gai says. He signs his name and swipes blood across the seal. _Good luck_ , Kakashi drawls, and then the world vanishes to white.

Gai doesn’t move - but the world moves around him. The plush of the sofa hardens to earth. Wheat crops spring up around him, numbering in their hundreds and thousands. Each is deathly white like a plant made of snow. The Hokage’s Residence sinks into the field. Kakashi’s voice drifts away to nothing, and then all Gai can hear is the sweep of the wind and the sound of his breath, surprised, as he takes in the chakra-mother’s plane. It is a quiet world. Considering how noisy Kakashi’s dogs can be, this is unexpected. Ningame’s home is safe and slow, just like a tortoise. Gai had pictured the world of the dogs to be… different.

Not that he can see much over the grain. He heaves himself up, realising he has neither his cane or wheelchair. His scars tug at the movement and pain trickles down his leg. For now, it’s not enough to deter him; he wants to see this world, what little of it there is. Fields stretch out as far as the eye can see. There are no trees or buildings, and the sky is vast and grey. Compared to the bustling forest of Ningame’s world, it feels lacking - in both colour and life. In his green sweatpants and vest, Gai is an eyesore. He hasn’t felt so out-of-place since he was a child.

“Hello? Lady… Hatsuhime?”

The wind howls but the great chakra-mother doesn’t appear. Gai considers his options, which are limited. Sit and wait (because he’s already struggling to stand), or go in search of anything and risk overexerting himself. He wishes he had his cane but there’s nothing for it now. His wheelchair wouldn’t survive the fields. He calls again - to no avail. The wheat brushes against his legs in the breeze.

“A mission, then,” he decides, picking a random direction. The chakra-mother must know he’s here. It’s only a matter of time before he finds her, and if this plane is anything like the terrapin’s, then he has all the time in the world.

Gai walks in no discernable direction for a short while - and then limps, dragging his bad leg, and has to pause. Ten minutes is about all he can manage these days. There’s nothing to lean or sit on, so the ground will have to do. The pain subsides almost instantly, but he has to catch his breath. The effort of walking is immense. A minute passes, and then two, and then Gai is up on his feet again to walk a little more. Short bursts of activity are about as exciting as his life is, nowadays. To think, he used to run three hundred laps of the village _blindfolded_. He fought armies. Battled tailed beasts. Kicked _Uchiha Madara_. He has never felt such thrill as he did in that fight. Gai has faced many opponents in his life, but never before had he considered opening the Eighth Gate.

He doesn’t regret it. Even if he hates what he has become. The people he loves are still alive because of the choice he made that day.

He has to sit again in the dirt. Pain scorches through his body. Sometimes, it’s all he can think about. Gai knows pain, he has experienced terrible kinds. He has even inflicted it upon himself, pushing his body to the limit, and tearing through the Gates. The Seventh Gate is nothing to joke about, but the _Eighth_ -

“Kakashi seems to think you can help me,” Gai says aloud, sure that the chakra-mother can hear. He breathes deeply, battling with himself to speak. The thought of baring weakness compels him to shrivel up in the dirt. Ears of wheat tickle his face. It could be a dog licking him if he imagines hard enough.

Still the chakra-mother is silent. She must think him unworthy. She must pity him - like Kakashi. Gai closes his eyes, wishing for the wind to carry him away. It doesn’t - but instead it brings a small and distant sound, like a whine or a cry of pain. He jumps up immediately to locate it. The horizon is white and endlessly grey, but then he hears it again. A whimper. He’s heard Kakashi’s dogs utter a similar cry.

If it _is_ one of the pack, then he cannot sit idle. He’s searching for the sound before he can second-guess himself. There’s still nothing to be seen by the crops and the sky, but Gai knows something is out there. He focuses on the sound instead of his protesting body. His physiotherapists will not be pleased, but Gai doesn’t think about that now. Something - or someone - might need his help, and he finds it’s easier to block out the pain with that in mind.

“Pakkun? Akino?” He starts listing off the names of Kakashi’s dogs, hoping one of them will answer.

There’s a whine. Gai lowers himself back into the field, looking for colour amongst the grain. His hands and knees are covered in soil. It’s better than bandages - and it makes a nice change. He almost feels like a child again, imagining worlds in the park. He crawls for a while. It’s only slightly easier on his back. Luckily, his students aren’t around to see him like this. He doesn’t think Kakashi’s pack will judge him for it, although they’ve never been shy of poking fun. They’re good for Kakashi, in that way. As a child, Kakashi was so serious. Eight misfits who loved him unconditionally was exactly what he needed.

Gai doesn’t think he needs a misfit. He’s not sure what he needs.

There’s another whine, this time louder. Gai pushes through the field, struggling with every movement. The source of the noise isn’t one of Kakashi’s dogs - but it is a dog, and Gai parts the white stems of the wheat to find a small, brown and black blob sniffling in the field. It’s a puppy, and a young one at that. It hasn’t yet grown into that charming, puppyish curiosity. Its whining is high and vulnerable, and its nose twitches as Gai approaches.

He lays down next to it, un-threatening himself. It helps that it’s the comfiest position to be in. The puppy’s ears perk up. Endearment warms Gai’s chest and he feels tears prick at his eyes. _It’s so small_. The puppy whimpers as Gai scoops it up, and he hushes it gently, cradling it on his chest. It fits in the palm of his hands.

“It’s dangerous to be all alone, little one. Surely you have a family to help you?”

The puppy nuzzles his hand, not alone anymore. Gai blinks up at the silver sky. He sniffs, overcome. His vision blurs with tears and he scrubs at his face, and all around him, the sky starts to move. Clouds seem to appear from nowhere, some of them almost as grey as the sky, but others of them patchy and gold. They move as one over the fields, back and forth like a great body rising towards the sun, and Gai realises that it _is_ a body, and the clouds are not clouds but _fur_. A wolf far larger than anything he imagined looms over him, iron-plated and silver-teethed. She smiles down at him with those teeth, and Gai thinks of Kakashi’s warning and swallows hard.

He clutches the puppy closer to his chest.

“Lady Hatsuhime?”

The field trembles as she settles. Her eyes are unlike any Gai’s seen.

“Interesting, how you remember my name,” Hatsuhime says, and she really _does_ look like she might eat him. “And yet you cannot remember your own.”

Gai forces himself to sit up. The puppy squirms at the movement, frightened. If its fear bothers Hatsuhime, then she makes no remark. The crop between them sways with her breath, rocking back and forth, back and forth.

“What do you mean?" Gai calls. Kakashi had warned him of the chakra-mother’s appetite, not her riddles. "I know my name! It is Maito Gai.”

 _Oh?_ says the chakra-mother, in the same way Kakashi does when he out-manoeuvres Gai. Her lips pull back with a smile, and her teeth shine. They look like icicles carving through a cavern. “And has that always been your name?”

“Of course it has!”

“Strange. Then why do you speak of yourself as another man? Why do you compare who you are against someone you’ve always been?”

“How did you -?” Gai stops himself, unsettled by Hatsuhime’s growing smile. It looks like it might never stop growing, splitting open the sky. He vows not to show any weakness, but he also doesn’t want to _lie_. She could eat him in one bite - and then what will Kakashi think? Gai answers slowly, considering his words: “I’m not the same as I was before the war.”

“Aren’t you? What is so different about you?”

 _You were watching_ , Gai wants to accuse, but he holds his tongue. Succumbing to anger is not the shinobi way. Gai supposes he is still a shinobi, despite everything. At least until Kakashi files the paperwork. Perhaps it’s already been filed; perhaps that’s why Kakashi suggested now to sign the summoning contract. With a dog to occupy Gai’s time, it might soften the blow.

“I’m not fit for duty. I can’t fight. I can barely walk.”

Hatsuhime replies with a thoughtful sound. “Is that all? The creature in your hands can also barely walk. Does that mean she is weak? Would you leave her to die?”

The puppy noses into Gai’s hand. He covers her from Hatsuhime’s sight, horrified. “Absolutely not. She is barely into her Springtime of Youth! It is only fair that she is given a chance to shape her own destiny.”

That seems to _please_ the chakra-mother. “Then I entrust her to you. Her name is Bao and I have Seen who she'll be. She will require a disciplined heart to guide her. She may be small, but she is not small in challenge. Do you accept?”

Gai looks down to Bao. She is pudgy, defenceless, and not quite the summon he pictured. He imagined a slow, elderly dog more like himself, one with few demands and fewer responsibilities. Something to match him, to share in the restrictions of his new life. A puppy is a greater challenge than he ever expected. Tears threaten to spring to his eyes.

“But… how will I summon her?” Gai asks. The Eighth Gate technique directed most of his chakra to his heart. It should have killed him. Now there is an excess of it there, even after Lady Fifth’s delicate work. Releasing too much chakra too fast could reopen that final gate. “I… am limited in the chakra I can use. I’m afraid maintaining her in my world will kill me.”

Hatsuhime inclines her great head. “Until a time comes when you surpass these _limitations_ ,” she begins, and the word is scorn among her teeth, as though Gai’s injury is trivial. “I will offset the chakra stipulation.”

“I am honoured,” Gai says, and weirdly flattered, offended, and _confused_. It doesn’t sound as though Hatsuhime pities him at all. He has to admit, “I may never be capable of overcoming this. I should have died.”

“ _Should_?” The chakra-mother laughs and it’s terrible - and wonderful. “You come to _me_ , who _Sees_ , and speak of _should_ and _should not_? The moment you signed my contract, I Saw what your future held. I Saw ashes! Yes, you _should_ have perished. But you did not. And now you drown yourself in a future that will never come to pass: it is oil, burn it! You have already proven yourself capable. What holds you back?”

“But -”

“Return to your plane. I have spoken enough.” Hatsuhime’s teeth grind together, rocks on a mountainside. “If you choose not to heed my words, next time, you will heed my bite.”

Hatsuhime sinks back into the field - and so does Gai, his shout muffling as the grain shakes free of its snow. Between one breath and the next, the Hokage’s Residence reappears around him. He blinks the whiteness from his eyes. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and then a sound of surprise reminds him that he didn’t return alone.

“Starting small?” Kakashi teases. He strokes Bao’s head, cooing. His other hand rests on Gai’s lower back.

Gai almost twitches away from the touch. He’s sore from walking through the fields - and he’s tired. But he stops himself at the last second and _feels_ Kakashi’s chakra blip in surprise.

“She didn’t scare you off completely, then?” Kakashi continues. He starts to rub away a knot of pain. _I haven’t scared you off completely, then?_ the drum of his fingers seems to say.

Gai purses his lips. “She said some strange things to me.”

“Maa, she does that. I wouldn’t worry too much. She liked you enough not to eat you - and she gave you a pup. What’s her name?”

“Bao. Lady Hatsuhime is taking care of the chakra requirement while I look after her.”

“Generous,” Kakashi notes. His eyes crinkle, pleased. He presses his cheek into Gai’s shoulder. “Maybe now you won’t be so huffy with me,” he says, and though his words are light, there is a note of hurt within them. “Bao can bite you when you’re grumpy.”

“I would not –”

Bao whimpers at the volume. Gai cuts himself off, gentling her with a pat. She quietens with little effort, snuggling into his palm. He’s careful as he strokes her, and her warm, vulnerable presence eases his injured pride. He has never been _grumpy_ at somebody under his protection – not his students, Kakashi’s students, or even Kakashi’s dogs – and it won’t be any different for Bao. He doesn’t really mean to be grumpy at Kakashi, either, not when the true source of his ire is himself.

Gai exhales through his teeth. “I used to be capable of so much,” he admits, and it pains him to do so. He doesn’t want anybody to think he’s _weak_ , least of all his Greatest Friend and Rival, his Man of Destiny, the Sixth _Hokage_. He would rather have perished in the blaze. “I will never be that man again.”

“Maybe,” Kakashi says, as troublesome as Hatsuhime. “But I don’t see a difference. You _lived_ , Gai. You survived something that no-one is meant to survive. I think you’re capable of anything.”

 _You have already proven yourself capable_ , Hatsuhime had said. Her parting words spin in Gai’s head. He’s not sure he understands everything she said, but one thing is clear.

“I thought… you were pitying me.”

“Because of my _fussing_?” Kakashi retorts, and Gai winces at the air-quotes. He turns his face into Gai’s neck and drops a kiss. “I don’t pity you. D’you really think I’m that shallow?”

“No,” Gai replies, and he means it. He rubs his forehead, frustrated. If Kakashi doesn’t pity him, and Hatsuhime doesn’t pity him, then maybe the only person who looks down on Gai is himself. “I’m not sure what to think anymore. Was the wheat made of snow?”

Kakashi laughs. “If it was, I think Bao’ll be happier here. She’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

“She’ll be a challenge,” Gai says, agreeing with Hatsuhime. It's a challenge he's ready to rise to, he hopes. He rubs his fingers under Bao’s tiny chin. “I don’t know much about puppies.”

“Good thing you’ve got me,” Kakashi says, and his arms close around Gai in a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> Bao's a doberman, if anyone's curious. Thanks for reading!


End file.
